


Comfort Hug #4: Not That Easy

by Crowley_Is_My_Copilot



Series: Comfort Hugs [4]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Hospital Setting, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert, Suicide Attempt, an exercise in coping methods, in which suzuya is as much in character as i could manage, nothing seriously emotional and kinda needs context of things said in the manga but, overuse of italics and bolding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6626104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Is_My_Copilot/pseuds/Crowley_Is_My_Copilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say 'easier said than done' but somethings aren't easy to say either. But that doesn't mean they don't need to be said and heard.</p><p>A Suzuya x Reader fic, set in the manga world after he loses his leg. 'Hurt/Comfort' applies to both parties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort Hug #4: Not That Easy

**Author's Note:**

> *disclaimer: I started this series as a purely self-indulgent coping method. I've found that it really helps me and I'm sharing in case anyone else might get the same help from this.

The hospital smells like disinfectant and sickness that can't be gotten rid of no matter how much bleach was used. It burns your nose and sticks to the back of your throat and all you want is to get out of here but you can't. At least another twenty-four hours, they told you, for 'observation' and you know exactly what that means. They're waiting to see how desperate you are - maybe you'll try again - but as you absent-mindedly scratch at the bandages on your forearms, you don't feel like it. You don't feel like doing _anything_ and now, even ending your life seems like too much work.

 _Not that anyone would care_ , you think.

"Why don't you go for a walk?"

The nurse has suggested the same thing at least four times and finally you nod, if only so she'll stop asking. You wish that the hospital gown's sleeves covered the bandages but at least they've allowed you your sweatpants. Walking through the corridor is still awkward, however, and you keep your head down as you shuffle along, not paying attention to where you're going. You just twist and turn through the hallways until the sounds of people fade away and all that's really left is the beeping of machines behind closed doors and someone humming.

That's when you lift your head, blink, and finally take in your surroundings. The hallway you're in is deserted - except for you and one other person. He's in a wheelchair, humming to himself as he kicks a leg against the wall under the window. He might be about your age, you're not sure. He looks small but that might merely be the way he's sitting in the wheelchair or the fact he's missing a leg, you don't know. Abruptly, he stops humming and tilts his head back, looking at you upside down. For a moment you feel unsettled but then he smiles and you give a hesitant one in return.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."

"Oh, _no_ , you're not bothering _me_." There was a lilting quality to his voice, almost like he doesn't take his own words seriously, and you don't know if you are or aren't bothering him.

"O-okay." 

You're about to excuse yourself, head already bent, when he turns the wheelchair to face you. There's odd red stitching on his arm, neck, and face that you realize now isn't for anything medical. And he's staring at you, still, eyes looking you up and down before settling on the bandages. 

"What happened your arms?"

The question catches you off-guard. Anyone looking at the matching bandages would know exactly what had happened and wouldn't ask; it was too embarrassing, too shameful, but that must not apply to him. 

"What happened to your leg?" you shoot back, trying to hide the shame with rudeness. He just grins at you then laughs.

" **That**? A ghoul cut it off! See?" He pulls his gown back so you can see the stump better and without thinking you move forward to get a better look, curiosity overtaking your earlier embarrassment. 

"A ghoul? How--?"

"I'm Juuzou Suzuya, second rank investigator. We--" Just as abruptly as he stopped humming, he stops talking, features taking on a serious expression. You wait for a moment but when he doesn't continue, you decide to give him a verbal nudge.

"You're with the CCG?"

"Yup, that's me!" He gestures at himself. "So, your arms? Did you do that? Were you trying to _kill_ yourself?" The inflection on the word 'kill' was so light and cheery and that probably should bother you but mostly it's just surreal. No one else has been this casual.

"I-- Yeah, I was. It's not important, I'm sorry."

He holds his hand out and when you do nothing, he motions until you hold one of your arms out. Taking one finger he lifts the edge of the bandage and peers underneath - with almost no regard for your balance - and you have to twist and kneel slightly to stay on your feet. 

"Wow, you **were** serious!"

"Uh--"

He grins at you, still holding your arm.

"Are you serious now?"

"I don't know," you admit. If the question had been 'do you wish you weren't alive', the answer might have been different. Now you're just _tired_. He tilts his head, the serious expression back in place.

"I think-- it's okay to feel like that. Ghoul Investigators could die anytime. I could've died instead, instead of-- Well, **I** think someone would be sad if you died! Even if you don't think so, when it happens, it changes. Like a part is missing."

"Oh." You're not sure if he's talking about you or something else. "Did, uh, did someone you know die?"

His head jerks back your direction and for a split second, he looks pissed and you finally pull your arm away. Then the anger fades and he looks as tired as you feel.

"I didn't do my job properly. I said I didn't care about those kinds of things but... It's different when it happens. Even if you can't do it for the people who'd be sad, you should do it for you." There's a heaviness in his voice and it hurts because you recognize it. "That's the right thing to do. Or not! It's not _that_ easy. It's not that easy," he says, laughing again.

You laugh, too, because he's right, it's that simple and that hard, all at once.

"Yeah, not **that** easy."

"But if you have time, you can work on it. That's all I - you can do. Until you don't have time anymore. You never _know_ when that might happen."

"I'm sorry about your friend."

He nods.

"Thanks. I'm sorry you feel _so_ badly you did that."

"Thank you." And you mean it.

From down the hall, you can hear your nurse calling your name. You turn to go as he starts humming again, but stop and turn back. It's awkward, but you lean down and wrap your arms around him. He makes a noise of surprise but then returns the hug, hand patting your back like you would do to comfort a child and you wonder which one of you is comforting the other. It doesn't matter, really. You needed to hear what he had to say and he needed to say it; that's what counts. Your knees hurt from bending in such a manner but he hasn't let go yet so you don't either, not until he gives you final pat - a bit harder than really needed - and you stand. Before you can leave, he grabs your hand, fingers picking at the bandage once more.

"If you want some nice stitches, you know where to find _me_!" He trills after you as he lets go and you grin, heading back towards the nurse.

Maybe you'll take him up on that later.


End file.
